True Memories
by BreakingSerenity
Summary: Dean’s assumption didn’t even come close to how much Sam lost in the fire that took Jessica away. He had no idea of the pain that runs deep within behind the mask that stood in place. Not until one day when he finds Jess’s hidden treasures. Post!Pilot.
1. Chapter 1

**True Memories.**

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. )**

**Summary: Dean's assumption didn't even come close to how much Sam lost in the fire that took Jessica away. He had no idea of the pain that runs deep within behind the mask that stood in place. Not until one day when he finds Jess's hidden treasures. Post!Pilot. Twoshot! **

**-A/N: Truth be told, I really, really, **_**really**_** have to thank Devan (**Ibelieveinsam**), Jess (**GG101**) and Louise (**FairyElle**) for making this fic readable and presentable. They are truly the best people on Earth, the greatest friends anyone could have. Thank you SOO much guys!! You have my love of the week…or month… or year… )**

**-A/N#2: If you're not a flashback person, or tends to skip the italics (flashbacks), this is ****not**** the fic for you. There are a couple of flashbacks here that are quite important, or will benefit you if you read them. Don't panic, however, this is ****not**** a drabble or a oneshot that only consists of flashbacks.**

**Let the bucketload of angst and drama begin.**

Sam swallowed hard, hoping to dissolve the lump forming in his throat, soothing his dry parched throat. He sat in an awkward position, slumped on the motel chair, his shoulders stiff and tense as if every man's grief and sadness was piled up upon them. Slowly chewing on his nail, his eyes shifted around the room uneasily, his mind wandering off somewhere else.

Distantly, he heard the soft pitter patter of the shower occupied by Dean.

Sam tried to think about other things. Happy things. Normal things. He forced his mind to go back to his childhood, his teenage years, or when John, Dean and Sam were together but everything he saw, everything he thought about, he could somehow relate to Jessica.

Slowly, with his other free hand he started drumming on the table with his fingers. Something Dean does on the steering wheel of his classic Impala. And when it came to Dean, his mind freely wandered.

"_Dean? You listen to horrible music!" Thirteen year old Sam exclaimed._

"_Horrible? You just have bad taste Sammy. Bad taste." Dean countered back coolly._

"_I don't have bad taste! You fill the car up with crap you call music! Like …uh..what, Motor…Motor…"_

_A chuckle escaped Dean's lips as he shook his head amusingly. "Motor__**head**__ Sam. Motorhead."_

"_Fine, whatever. Motorhead. Who listens to music by some group of people who call themselves Motorhead?"_

"_Dude! Are we even related? Because I gotta say Sammy, my little brother wouldn't disgrace the name of Motorhead." Dean reached over and playfully slapped Sam across the head._

_The laughter of the two teenagers filled the quiet night as they fought to catch their breaths. _

Sam drew a shaky breath as he recalled how happy he used to be. Who was he fooling? The life he lived before Stanford was perfect. –Without John's orders. It was just how he always liked it, with Dean on the road.

And then there was Dad.

Barking his orders like they were servants, carrying out orders for their masters.

The life at Stanford, however, wasn't as good as he expected. He couldn't deny his real life. He couldn't deny who he really was. And that, he understood. And even though Sam was surrounded by his delighted friends, he couldn't pretend that he came from a perfectly normal family, baking cakes on their kids' birthdays, wishing them a Merry Christmas or kissing them on their foreheads before they would go to bed.

His friends would ask him about his family, his life, and lies would familiarly roll off his tongue. Every lie would add on top of the pile, would have to back up his previous ones.

And it was not as easy task.

During his second year at Stanford, a new student enrolled, and that was when Sam met the woman of his dreams. She was always so understanding, even if he would feed her lie after lie, she would accept him…

The creaking of an old door snapped Sam back to reality as Dean stepped out with a towel around his waist, the faint fog of steam rising from his body.

"Hey Sammy, I saved some hot water for you." Dean smiled, in attempt to cheer his little brother up. His attempt proved futile as he knew the answer deep down.

His brother's girlfriend died three days ago, her abdomen split open, her back pressed up against the ceiling with flowing blonde hair draping around her shoulders, hanging down freely.

His brother had witnessed the death of his girlfriend, had that awful sight imprinted in his mind forever. No one could forget such a vivid memory, and certainly no one could bounce back from something so devastating.

Not even a Winchester.

Dean sighed at the position Sam was in; cramped up in the wooden chair, lost in his own thoughts.

"Sam?" He said a bit more loudly, careful not to startle him.

"I don't feel like a shower. Not tonight." Sam's voice broke through Dean's ears, raspy and hoarse, broken and helpless.

"Well c'mon, let's get an early night in. We both need it."

Sam remained still and silent as Dean put his clothes on.

"Sam? Sammy, you need to rest." Dean walked up to him and put a gentle hand on Sam's back. Sam's eyes shifted around uncomfortably, his first thoughts were painfully how long Dean hasn't done that to him.

Finally, he raised his eyes and locked with Dean's.

_Help me, Dean. What do I do? How do I deal? How do I keep on living? _They seemed to express.

Dean wasn't a fool. He knew a simple "Nothing's gonna get you" or "You'll be alright, Sammy" is going to make this better. Instead, he patted Sam's back softly, trying to coax him to going to bed.

"If it makes you feel any better, we'll go back to that apartment tomorrow morning and see what we can find."

A moment of silence met Dean at first, and he thought that Sam was in deep thought again and didn't hear him. "Sam?-"

"I'll think about it." That was all he offered, as he stood up on shaky legs and made his way towards his bed.

Dean bit his lip as he watched Sam move around. Uncoordinated, lost and alone. He watched silently as Sam slid under the sheets and turned around to face the other way.

Someone was obviously not going to sleep.

Stealthily, he maneuvered his way around, turning off the lights and finally settling in his own bed, he turned to look at Sam whose back was facing him.

After a long moment of silence, Dean knew what Sam was up to. Stay up all night without sleeping, and drink lots of coffee the next day.

That wasn't going to work tonight.

"Sam, you really need to get your rest." He spoke softly.

"Yeah, I'll try." Sam whispered back. "Go to sleep, Dean. I'll be out by this hour or so. I've just got some on my mind."

"Night Sam."

Dean rolled over into his usual sleeping position and tried to succumb to his exhaustion. He has a big day ahead of him tomorrow.

After all, he has to go to his brother's apartment to find any remains.

**000**

Sam tried his best to make his breathing even, imitating him asleep. It seemed to work, after a few minutes, he heard the tell tale snores coming from the other bed.

Sam opened his eyes and stared at the darkness that surrounded him. He felt so alone, so miserable. Who knew that a 24 year old man can have such sadness in him enough to drown him whole?

"_Have you ever been to the beach, early in the morning when the sun is about to rise?" Jess asked Sam._

"_No. Never." To be honest, Sam really wasn't that type of guy. He had never experienced something so natural, yet Jessica seemed to be intrigued by it._

"_Let me tell you something, Sam. It will be the most beautiful thing you will ever see. The sunlight shines at the sea, and as it is about to rise, the sky turns a beautiful orangey color. You have no idea what you're missing out on." She smiled._

"_You watch the Sun rise on the beach often?"_

"_Quite often. I also watch the Sun set. I never get sick of it though. You can never get sick of natural beauty. It's the same thing everyday, yet so different."_

_Sam shook his head amusingly. "You are one poetic girl." He chuckled as he hovered above her, lying in the sand, and kissed. _

_The moment lasted for quite a while, until Jessica shot up and pointed towards the sky. "Sam!! Look! It's happening!" She cried._

_Sam followed her gaze and he found his own eyes transfixed upon the glowing sphere that hovered above the sea._

"_Isn't that amazing?" She whispered, her orbs glued to the horizon. _

_Sam was speechless. He had never seen anything to beautiful, yet so ordinary. The Sun was up every day, scorching upon the cities, giving everyone light and heat. It was a shining ball of light, but Sam had never seen the Sun in this state, hovering above the gleaming waves, illuminating a bright yellow glow on their faces. _

_The sea sparkled with life as they met the Sun's rays, seagulls chirped and flew across the ocean as if dancing with joy. The whole city was silent, still asleep in their beds, missing out on the moment of their lives. _

_Soon, the entire city was glowing a dull yellow, the reflection of the Sun in the water gazing right back at itself. Slowly rising, slowly lighting the town up, Sam watched with amazement and wander. _

_The moment passed quickly, and the Sun was up being the familiar self everyone sees everyday. _

_Sam wished that the moment could have lasted longer, but he knows that real memories last forever, etched in the depths of your mind, so real your heart still pounds with the same excitement. _

"_So how did you like that?" _

_It took a moment for Sam to gaze back into the face of his girlfriend, the scenery still fresh in his mind. _

"_That was beautiful," was all he supplied. _

_Jess laughed whole-heartedly, glad that she didn't disappoint Sam. _

"_Are you up for the sunset? I'm telling you, it's as good as the sunrise, if possible even better." _

_Sam smiled, showing off his dimples and white teeth as he leant in and kissed her, both rolling in the sand, laughing and joking._

_Sam couldn't wait to watch the sunset with Jessica._

Sam curled up into a ball under his sheets and tried his best to stifle the sobs escaping from him. Tears fought to break free from the corners of his eyes, sliding down his temples and dissolving into a wet droplet under him.

He tried to control his breathing, making it steady and calm, trying not to alert Dean.

Angrily, he tried to stop the tears, wiping them away or trying to think of happier moments, but nothing came to him. All he could think about were memories of Jessica, the happy moments they had together, the feeling that was more thrilling than a rollercoaster, and it was plainly them two together that achieved that exhilarating feel.

_Sam shuffled nervously at Jessica's doorstep, with a bouquet of flowers hidden behind his back. He looked at his reflection in the stained glass panel in the door, making sure he looked presentable at the least, and rang the doorbell._

_The door opened, and Sam's eyes met the blue orbs of Jessica's staring right back at him. Sam smiled, delightfully and brought the red roses from behind his back and handed them to her. "Happy Birthday." He said and leant down to kiss her. _

_Gratefully, Jessica accepted them with a thank-you, and invited him to come in. Sam had the day planned out perfectly, walk around the beach and then take her out for dinner. _

_Jess loved beaches. She always said that they were nature's true beauty, the waves crashing on the cliffs, the golden glint of the sand as each wave tried to reach further than before. _

_As they walked in bare feet along the ankle-deep water, Sam couldn't help but notice Jess's clothes choice of the day. She wore a beautiful light blue knee-length skirt that flowed freely behind her as the wind brushed past, and a short sleeved V-neck top. _

_Sam couldn't help but think that this was God's gift for him, something good that came out of all those years of hunting the evil and saving the innocent. _

_That evening, Sam invited Jessica to a classy restaurant as they ate together, laughing joyfully and Sam felt a happiness in his heart that day that seemed to overpower the heaviness that weighed there ever since that dreadful day his father didn't approve of Stanford. _

_Later on that night, Sam drove Jessica home, walking her to the front door and ending it with a long kiss that will forever be in both of their hearts. _

"_This was such a wonderful day Sam. Thank you so much. Only you could have brought such joy to my heart today." She smiled gently at him._

"_Well, what can I say?" Sam replied with a smirk on his face. "Happy Birthday." He smiled back._

_And with that, Jessica disappeared behind her door as Sam walked down the stairs of her porch, with a big smile on his face. _

Sam shoved his fist into his mouth, biting hard onto his skin, keeping him from making any sound as the tears continued to flow freely down the corners of his eyes. His breathing became uneven, hitching slightly as he tried his best to hide it.

Yeah, God's gift. He thought bitterly. What a great gift it was, putting Jess's life in his hands and she ended up like…

Sam didn't want to think anymore as he squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his pillow. Clenching his fists so hard, his nails bit into his palm but he didn't care. He appreciated the pain. He deserved the pain. He deserves a whole lot more than just tiny nail marks in his palm.

A whole lot more.

Exhaustion finally took over, and Sam fell asleep, the darkness closing off at the edges of his vision and he was met with a peaceful silence where he didn't feel so lonely, so sad, and heavy with loss.

**000**

Dean hastily blinked as the first few streams of sunlight peeked in through the curtains. He got out of bed, scrubbing a hand over his face and he stole a quick glance at his brother. Sam was curled up under the sheets, the steady rise and fall of his chest assured Dean as he shuffled around to get dressed.

"Sam? Hurry up, we need to be there early so we don't cause any trouble." Dean called as Sam rolled out of bed and put himself on auto-pilot, his face devoid of any emotion.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked as if he had forgotten the conversation last night.

"The apartment, remember? We're going to see if we can find any remains of anything."

"Oh, okay." Sam replied, his voice dull and boring, not the voice so full of life and emotion Dean was always used to.

Dean bit his tongue, restricting him from asking more questions, drowning the urge for his brother to tell him what was wrong, or how he could fix this.

**000**

Dean parked his car a few streets away from the burnt down apartment, careful not to arouse any suspicions.

"I don't want to go." Sam whispered. "I'll stay here."

"Come with me Sam. This might be helpful."

Something in Sam snapped as he turned to look at his brother. "Helpful?" He asked. "Helpful for _who, _exactly? You just want to see if there are new leads to where that demon is! You're not doing this for me, it's all for yourself!" Sam spat.

"What the hell, Sam? Where did that come from? I'm trying to _help_ you! That's crazy! This is for your own good, not my leads on that sonofabitch!"

After a short moment of silence, Dean spoke up again. "Fine. Stay in the car and wait for me. I won't be long."

As Dean walked away, the last of Sam's voice echoed in his ears. He understood why he refused to go, but how could he think that Dean wanted a new trail for the demon?

Dean rounded the corner, approaching the burnt apartment from the back so nobody would see him. Stealthily, he climbed in and looked at the mess that surrounded him. He was standing exactly where he was three days ago, where he witnessed his brother wide-eyed on the bed, looking at his beloved impaled upon the ceiling.

Dean didn't have to look to know what was happening. The fire, the blood, the ceiling. The only thing on Dean's mind; was Sam.

Get **Sam**. Pull **Sam **out. Get **Sam** to safety.

Protect **Sam**.

He stepped around carefully, shaking his head as he looked around. Nothing, no one could survive from a fire like this. Everything was burnt down, the walls were blackened, and the faint odor of smoke still hung heavily in the air.

Slowly, he raised his head to the ceiling, the faint smudge of crimson red still visible though faint. His mind flashed back to how beautiful Jessica was, long blonde curls weaving around her pretty face.

Dean swallowed hard at the burning question in his mind. Just how long had Sam and Jessica been together? How _close _were they?

Dean sighed and climbed back out of the apartment. There was nothing he could do; there were no remains, nothing. Casually, he walked around to the front to see what he would find, surprised when he saw a group of people in their early 20's huddled around each other.

Dean, thinking they were the neighbors, approached them wandering if they heard anything that fatal night.

"You guys must live around here, right?" He asked coolly.

"Us?" A girl replied. "No. We're friends of the poor girl who died in the fire."

Instantly, Dean's eyes shot up, his ears perked. "Friends of Sam Winchester too?"

A guy raised his eyebrows at Dean with curiosity. "Yeah, Sam too. Who are you?"

"I'm Sam's brother. De-"

"Hang on; you're the famous Dean Winchester?" The girl interrupted before Dean had a chance to introduce himself.

"Yeah, I am. Is that a good thing or bad thing that I'm so famous?"

"Good of course! Sam's been telling all of us how heroic his big brother is, the cocky flirtatious smartass."

Dean chuckled as he looked at the five people before him. Three girls and two guys.

"I'm Rebecca, by the way. Call me Bec though." The girl said. "This is Zach, Lily, John and Al. Sam and Jess made the rest of our group but…" Rebecca's voice trailed off as her eyes softened and tears threatened to spill over the edges.

Dean took a deep breath and glanced at the burnt building. Then, in silence, he looked down at his feet. There was nothing much he could say, he barely even knew these people.

"How long had Sam and Jessica been together?" He blurted out.

"You don't know?" Al asked, surprise evident in her voice. She took Dean's silence as a 'no' and looked at the others. "Two and a half years at the least. They seemed to click so perfectly… They were so sweet together…" She turned around and buried her face in Zach's shoulders as her own trembled. Sobs wracked her as she thought of the dear friend she lost.

It was then, that Dean realized that he didn't know a lot of things about Sam. He had been to Stanford for four years, and a person can change so much in four years. His stomach clenched tight as he thought to himself. He didn't know how Sam coped in college, how Sam acted around his friends, how Sam held his head so high even as he turned his back on his father, with his words angrily stabbing at his back.

Lily's voice broke through Dean's track of thoughts. "Where's Sam? How's he dealing with…this?"

"Sam's in the car. I guess he didn't want to see the scene and relive the memory again. He's dealing f-"Dean cut himself off. No, Sam wasn't dealing fine. Sam didn't even come _close_ to fine. He was slowly drifting away, slowly fading into the horizon.

"Not that good either, huh?" She whispered.

Dean let his eyes drop down to the ground and he found himself speechless. Finally, after a long moment of awkward silence and only the sounds of sobbing could be heard, Dean spoke up.

"What are you guys doing here so early in the morning?" he asked.

"Actually, we found something we thought you might want to keep." Rebecca said sadly. "When we first met Jess, she became real good friends with me and decided to keep a safe in my apartment. That was nearly three and a half years ago, and none of us ever mentioned of it ever since. I almost forgot about it, until one day it just came to me. I didn't even remember what was in it, but as soon as I opened it, I saw…"

She broke off as her breath hitched and she turned away, looking into the distance. Once again, she took a deep breath and reached for her bag, hanging lowly down her side.

Rebecca handed Dean a thick folder, smiling sadly. "There are a lot of things in there. Photos, notes, letters… I guess it was Jess's treasure, and if something should happen to her I think she'd want you or Sam to have these. I guess that's the case now."

They said their goodbyes, apologies and good lucks as they walked away, tears quietly sliding down their cheeks.

Dean looked down at the folder in his hands, and peered carefully inside. There _was_ a lot in there. He sat down on a nearby bench and slowly, he pulled out the thick pile that was bound together by a fragile elastic band.

There were three photos just sitting on top of the pile, and Dean knew that he was invading someone else's privacy but something in him just wanted to reach out and read everything. He carefully pulled the photos out from behind the elastic band and glanced at each one.

They were all crumbled, curled and folded at the corners. The first one was of Sam, Jess, Lily, John, Al, Rebecca and Zach, arms around each other with smiles pasted onto their faces. Sam's arms were wrapped around Jess's neck, while her eyes looked back at his, the love and affection running so deeply Dean couldn't miss it. Lily had her arms around Zach's, her hand holding Rebecca's and her head was rested on Al's shoulder. John was in the middle, his broad arms around everybody's shoulders, and they were all gazing into the camera.

Dean bit his lip and fought the urge of jealousy creeping up.

The second photo was of Sam and Jess only, their foreheads touching, their gazes on each other. Sam's had his famous dimpled smile on, while Jess was laughing, her hair flowing behind her in the direction of the breeze.

The last, was probably the oldest. It was a picture of Sam, his arms around Jessica wearing a low V-neck top with a light blue skirt flowing behind her. Jess seemed to lean into the touch, her head dipped slightly in towards Sam. She was holding three red roses, bunched in her hands. They were at the beach, the water level slightly higher than their ankles. Seagulls soared around in the blue sky, the white clouds hanging peacefully above their heads.

Again, they were happy. Both pairs of eyes sparkled with life and joy, love and passion. Their smiles reflected their mood, the blue waves in the background gleamed like blue crystals.

Two and a half years, Dean recalled as he put the photos back behind the elastic band, placing the bunch of sheets back in the folder. That was a long time, and the love, friendship and trust that was formed over that amount of time… It was lost. Everything, just like that.

Dean looked down at the folder in his hands. Maybe not everything was lost. He still had to find out everything that was in here.

Dean glanced at his watch as he left the bench, walking back to his Impala.

At the sight of his brother, Sam lifted his head to look at him, the apology shone clear in his eyes. Dean sat in the driver's seat, and before he started the engine, he needed to speak to Sam.

"You don't need to say anything, Sam. It wasn't your fault. I get it, though, some things are spoken out of anger or sadness."

Sam took a deep breath, wanting to argue back, but changed his mind. "I guess I… I'm sorry about…everything."

Dean handed Sam the folder, placing it gently on his lap. "This, is something you need to look at once we get back to the motel. It's Jessica's. She left it in a safe at Rebecca's apartment."

**000**

Sam sat cross-legged on the bed, looking down at the unopened folder with Dean sitting on the wooden chair across from him.

"If you need privacy-" He offered.

"No, please don't go." Sam hated how he sounded so weak, but the last thing he wanted was to be left alone.

"Dean, I actually…uh… I think I might feel better if I share this with you?"

Dean looked at him, shocked that Sam was willing to let him in. He understood that this was something major to Sam, something private that he wanted to keep to himself.

Noting the silence, Sam quickly added, "It's okay if you don't feel like it or if you think it's chickflick."

Dean widened his eyes. "No, no of course not Sam! I just thought…" Dean walked over and sat next to him, the bed gently dipping in. "I wasn't sure if you felt comfortable with it, ya know."

Sam bit his lip and opened the folder, the contents of the inside poured out with the elastic band tight around the bundle. At the sight of the three photos Dean looked at earlier on, he took a deep breath and looked away as Dean put a reassuring hand on his back.

"It's alright if you don't feel up to it right now." He said softly.

"Nah, I'm fine. I'm fine."

Fine. Yeah, right.

Sam looked at the three photos for a few minutes before carefully setting them beside him, as if they would break into a million shards of glass if you fumbled with it.

Carefully, he slid the elastic band off and everything came undone. There were letters, notes, more photos, recounts…everything. Sam looked at everything, his fingers gently hovering over each piece before he saw something that caught his attention.

It was a recount, with photos attached to it. Quickly, Sam pulled it out from the pile and read it, Dean trying to be invisible and not rude, reading it over his shoulders.

_I did the best thing today! It was my favorite night of my life, Sam and I watched the Sun set on the beach together! It was beautiful, just like every other night, but with Sam there… it was such an amazing night. The air was warm and inviting, the smell of the sea water filled my lungs._

_We were lying in the sand, the evening sky above us having a slight tinge of orange. The seagulls flew high above us, squawking loudly, mixed with the whooshing sounds as the waves crashed upon the shore. _

_Finally, when the Sun was slowly disappearing behind the horizon to the other side of the Earth, we sat there, admiring the beauty displaying before our very eyes. _

_The sky had turned a beautiful orange color; the clouds were slowly fading away but were still visible. _

_The Sun's intense rays were no longer making us squint, it was perfect. We could see it perfectly now, round and full slowly sinking below the horizon. _

_This was the first time Sam had seen the Sun set. When he first saw the Sun rise last week, he loved it. It enlightened me so much to see him so happy, so delightful. I promised him that I would watch the Sun set with him, and here we are. This night was so much better than the million dreams I've had. _

_A light, warm breeze would blow lightly every now and again, and it just added to the moment. _

_As the last of the Sun disappeared behind the still waters of the beach, we sat there lost in our own worlds. _

_It was the best night of my life, and that is the biggest understatement ever. _

Dean had finished it long before but Sam remained still and silent. He seemed to be rereading the words over and over again, as if Jess's words were actually meant _for him_ and not just a simple recount.

Finally, Sam turned the piece of paper over revealing two pictures of that night. Dean had never seen a Sunrise, or a sunset, and the photos simply amazed him.

The orange globe that was suspended in mid-air, reaching below the horizon was bright and beautiful. It was exactly how Jessica had described it, and the watery reflection of it was still in the waves.

The other photo was plainly Jessica and Sam sitting in the golden sand, their shoulders touching and they were both smiling happily at the camera.

Sam seemed to forget that Dean was right beside him at all and he flipped back to the recount, reading it again.

Dean's heart ached for Sam. It was only the beginning, and he was starting to realize how much Sam had lost in that fire three days ago. Sam and Jessica had formed a bond, a friendship and a relationship that was so strong, so trusting, and the Demon had arrived and with the snap of its fingers, took everything away.

Why now? Why Sam?

What did Sam ever do to _anyone_ in his life that he deserved to be punished so cruelly at such a young age? Sam was the nicest kid Dean knew with the biggest heart, the biggest smile, the kindest touch, willing to sacrifice anything if it meant to help someone else- even a stranger.

These kinds of people were rare. Like finding a four leaved clover. What was so wrong about this, about Sam meeting the girl of his dreams, that fate decided to steal her away from his heart?

This was all so wrong, Dean thought angrily. He stole a quick glance at Sam and saw how deep the pain ran beneath that mask he built everyday. He could tell with just one look deep in his moss green eyes that Sam was suffering.

His eyes held unanswered questions, a desperation to be loved and not so alone. A desire to be normal and not witness deaths of innocent people everyday and learning to hunt the evil.

He was drowning in his own pain, his own guilt and loss, and in most conditions, nobody could be able to bounce back from something like that.

But this wasn't most conditions.

Demons don't casually walk in and impale people on the ceilings.

Sam was strong, on some levels, even stronger than Dean. Sam had a spirit, a scale of black, grey and white. Sam, with his big, kind heart still pumping healthily.

Time seemed to have frozen, and after a while, Sam put down the recount of the sunset he watched together with Jess.

"Sam?" Dean said gently, softly.

Sam didn't respond, but turned his head and locked eyes with him. The raw pain and desperate plea in there made Dean fiercely blink make the sting of tears. Instead, he gave him a sad reassuring smile and squeezed his shoulder gently.

Sam looked down at the scattered pile before him, and he picked out another old, crumbled photo and looked at it longingly, a smile creeping on his face.

The photo seemed to look back at him, with Jess and Sam doubling over laughing hysterically. Sam's hair was wet, plastered onto his forehead with water dripping from it, while Jess' was tied into a loose ponytail at the back, her blonde fringe coming loose, wet and curly.

Their clothes were wet, from top to bottom. There wasn't a single spot that was dry. Dean couldn't help but wander what on earth happened. His first thought made him smile, but knew it was almost _impossible_. Did they shower together?

Sam, on the other hand, searched the depths of his mind, and easily let himself wander off to that day.

"_Sam! Pleeeaaasssee? It'll be fun!" Jess tried her best impression of a puppy dog face, looking up to Sam, pleading._

_Sam hesitated. "I haven't done this in like twenty years! I don't even remember how to tie a water balloon!"_

"_Please Sam? It'll be so cool! Just one water balloon fight! One…!" _

_Sam looked into his girlfriend's eyes. This was too childish, he thought. Sure he's had one or two water balloon fights with Dean when they were young, really young, but now?_

"_Fine, but-"_

_Jess darted to get the water balloons done before Sam even finished his sentence. Soon, thirty minutes later, they had piles of mini balloons filled up with water. _

_Jess leant up to kiss Sam longingly. "Are you ready?" She whispered._

"_Jess…" Sam whined. _

_Before Sam finished complaining, Jess snatched a couple of water balloons and threw them at Sam, the water splashing over his face dripping onto his clothes. She laughed, stole more from the pile and ran out of the house, her laughter filling the air._

"_JESS!" Sam roared, his lips curled at the corners, and he took a few balloons himself, taking off after his girlfriend. His long legs were an advantage, and soon enough he saw Jess out of breath around the corner of their block. _

_Sam aimed, and threw his balloon hard and he watched with satisfaction as it landed on Jess's waist. A big wet patch slowly started spreading around the fabric of her shirt, as she plastered on a mock surprise expression and took aim. _

_Sam barely had time to react when a water balloon was flying across the air, splattering on Sam's head. His hair suddenly felt heavy, the water piling up and dribbling down his eyes, clouding his vision._

_Jess' hearty laughter filled his ears, causing him to chuckle as he wiped his arm across his eyes. _

_Jess was gonna get it. He thought with a wide smile._

_Sam sprinted up to Jessica, throwing balloon after balloon, one landing on her collarbone, knees, and elbows. Water splashed everywhere, their eyes twinkled with happiness as they ran back to the house looking for more water balloons. _

_Jess ran up to Sam, threw her arms out and tackled him to the ground. Sam, surprised by this, ended with his back against the grass, Jess on top of him laughing. _

_He looked down to see his shirt wet, and apparently the last two balloons he held in his hand had popped during the collision. His cotton shirt absorbed the liquid quickly, the warm summer's breeze felt cool against his skin._

_Quick as lightning, Jess jumped up and darted back to the house leaving Sam running behind her. _

_Sam ran into the house, and suddenly it was silent. No giggles or laughter echoing around the walls, no squelches of footsteps against the wet tiled floor. _

"_Jess?" Sam asked, sneaking around the room. "Jess?" _

_He rounded the corner of the kitchen, his hand pressed up against the door as it opened slowly, and before he knew what was happening, the loud roar of laughter filled his ears as liters of water splashed onto his face._

_Sam was so surprised, the force of the impact made him hold a steady hand against the wall to brace himself as he staggered backwards. _

_After a few seconds, when Sam's vision cleared, he found Jess standing in front of him with a wide grin on her face, a bucket in her hands. _

_A split second later, Sam realized that the bucket was still half full. Realization hit him hard as he tried to reason with her._

"_Jess! Jess-" He tried to warn her, held out a hand signaling 'wait', but she laughed even harder as she hurled the remaining water at Sam. _

_Jess doubled over with laughter as she found Sam on his back against the tiled floor, dazzled from the second attack. She laughed so hard her stomach began cramping, and soon, Sam found himself laughing along with her._

_Nothing could be heard in the apartment except the cackling and the occasional gasping for air. _

_Little did Jessica know, Sam was plotting his next major move. _

_Sam walked outside slowly, pretending to be doing something else while Jess stole more water balloons and hit Sam dead centre on the back. _

_He bit his lip, trying not to give his plan away, and he felt another splat on his upper back._

_And another._

_And another._

_Sam spun around on his heel, turning the hose on full blast as the spray of water hit Jessica dead on. She was squealing, laughing and shouting at Sam to stop all at the same time. _

_Sam, however, was not paying any attention to her pleas. He laughed even harder, moving closer to Jess as the hose sprayed more water on her._

_Soon, both of them were soaking wet, from head to toe. They sat on the wet floor, catching their breaths and laughing. _

"_It wasn't that bad was it now Sam?" She asked with a hint of humor in her voice._

_Sam shook his head amusingly and smiled. "It was awesome, seeing you getting sprayed with the hose!" _

_Jess blurted out laughing, her smile was the most gorgeous thing Sam had ever seen. _

Sam had a small, sad smile on his face and Dean wandered what really happened that day. His little brother seemed really lost in thought and he couldn't help but sadly think when Sam was going to become his usual self again.

Sam held the photo in shaking hands, looking intently at Jessica. He stared long and deep into her twinkling joyful eyes.

_The water balloon stains across her stomach._

Sam swallowed hard.

_The wet patch that went diagonally across her stomach._

Sam's breathing became harsh and he barely felt his brother rubbing circles onto his back.

_So similar to the bloody gash across her abdomen. _

Sam sprang from the bed and sprinted into the bathroom, barely having the time to sink to his knees and throwing up the contents in his stomach.

He barely realized that Dean had followed him, soothing him as his stomach lurched painfully, the substance hurling out of his mouth leaving an awful sour taste.

Tears sprang to his eyes and slowly trailed down his cheeks, dripping down his chin and falling down the toilet, mixing with his vomit.

_Jessica and the water stain._

_Jessica and the blood pooling around her stomach._

_On the ceiling._

Sam made a guttural cry as his stomach heaved painfully once more, tears stinging his eyes. His constricted throat was not helping him through this, but Dean was.

Dean was beside him constantly, and even though he didn't understand what was happening he was there. And being **there **was enough for Sam. Dean was gently running Sam's back, whispering words of comfort to him, and all this time he had no idea what was going on.

He had no idea of the memories Sam held, the thoughts Sam had, but he was there supporting him all the way through.

Minutes later, Sam sat against the wall, still on the wet bathroom tiles, his shoulders slumped forward. Dean sat beside him, watching him from the corners of his eyes intently.

Sam was looking down, his long knotted hair shielding his eyes from Dean as he bit his lip, forcing himself not to cry. What was wrong with him?

It felt like a boot was pressing down on his chest, restricting him the luxury of oxygen, of **happiness.** He couldn't breathe properly, his stomach was clenching tight and he spun his head towards Dean, frightened eyes screamed for help but his voice wouldn't follow.

He felt his body slipping away into the darkness, his vision hazy towards the edges as he tried to suck oxygen into his lungs, but there was nothing.

**TBC.**

**Hehe. I hope everyone enjoyed this as much as I did writing it. Don't worry, chapter 2 is on it's way. Apologies for the length, which is why I split it up into two parts. Review please, and tell me if you liked it or thought it was boring!!**

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm terribly sorry for leaving you with such a long wait. I know my thousand excuses won't be enough because that'll just waste more of your time so I hope you enjoy this, and I hope this was worth the month-long wait.**

**I have got to thank Jess (**GG101**) for her amazing and fast beta on this fic! Somehow she lived past all my mistakes and managed to make this presentable. **

**Thanks a bunch Jess! **

Dean sensed something was wrong as soon as Sam's muscles were taut. His eyebrows quirked, and suddenly Sam jerked his head around and looked at him. His eyes were filled with tears, the pain so evident it bore deep into his soul, and Dean immediately movedin as quick as a flash, his eyes scanning Sam's body for any injuries.

"Sam? Sammy?!" Dean cried.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut as his breath came out in short gasps, his grip on Dean's jacket tightening as his fingers clenched the material.

"Sam? SAM!?" Dean's frantic eyes searched his brother's face, and it was then that he suddenly realized that Sam was having a panic attack.

Dean rested his weight on his knees as he took Sam in his hands, rubbing circles firmly on his back. "Breathe through it Sam, calm and steady. Just breathe Sam."

Tears streamed down Sam's face. He couldn't think, and he barely heard Dean's voice. All he heard was his heart beat beating faster and faster, his lungs burning as they lacked oxygen.

"Sam! Concentrate! Easy now, with me." Dean tried to breathe along with Sam, making his intakes dramatic hoping Sam would get it through to him. "One…." Dean inhaled. "Two…" Dean exhaled.

He repeated the process again and again, his hand never leaving Sam's back as it was on auto-pilot stroking Sam's back gently but firmly over and over again.

Sam's body tried to co-operate, his eyes on Dean and his mind screamed _Breathe!_

"One…Two…One…Two…" Dean coaxed.

Slowly, Sam's breathing became more like Dean's, still a bit fast, but improvement was definite.

"That's right, you're getting it Sammy. Try a little harder." He urged, his hand stroking Sam's back in wider circles, the gesture Sam gratefully accepted. "One…Two…One…Two…" Dean kept repeating those words, his over-dramatic inhaling and exhaling as Sam looked at him with wide, brown eyes.

Soon, Sam's breathing became even and normal and Dean let out a sigh of relief. Sam coughed, still drawing in large amounts of oxygen as he slumped back against the bathroom wall.

"You scared the shit outta me there kiddo." Dean said softly.

"I'm sorry, I-I didn't know that was gonna happen, I swear…" Sam said, short and quick, the words rolling off his tongue.

"Hey, hey calm down. I'm not mad, Sam. What's wrong? Just tell me what's wrong."

"I-I… I just remembered something and…" Sam shifted uncomfortably and Dean got the vibes.

"Sammy, whatever it is, I won't laugh. I won't think it's stupid. This is important, and I understand. What's wrong?" Dean's voice was gentle. He was in full big-brother mode and it made Sam blink furiously at the tears rebuilding in his eyes.

"I remembered… when Jessica decided to have this water fight for fun, and… and I just had this sudden image of her- instead of the water stain across her shirt, it was the… the bloody gash on her abdomen as she was pinned on the ceiling…" Sam swallowed and looked down, taking a deep breath in.

"Aw Sammy…" Dean's hand brushed against Sam's arm, knowing _no _words could make Sam better.

"It's not fair…" He whispered brokenly, and Dean looked at him with worried eyes.

_Sammy, how am I supposed to make this right again? _

"Why…after all that time we spent together, that son of a bitch just came and took her away? Just took her away…" Sam's voice trailed off as he sniffed back tears and Dean's heart ached for him.

"Sam…" Dean didn't know what to say. What _could_ he say? Sure, his dad trained them to patch wounds, stay alert, hunt using all five senses or even including the _sixth _sense, but he didn't prepare them for this.

Sam leaned his head against the bathroom wall, his eyes transfixed on the white plastered ceiling above them.

"Everybody around me keeps dying. They keep dying…" He whispered. "Soon it's going to be you, Dean."

"Sam, that's not true!" Dean'shis voice firm and reassuring. He just hoped it was enough to help his broken brother see the truth. "It's not your fault, it never was and don't you for a second start thinking it is! I'm the witness, Sam. I speak the truth, and only the truth."

Sam's eyes swam before daring to look into Dean's serious orbs.

"You have done nothing wrong." He confirmed as Sam nodded slowly and sniffed.

"C'mon Sam, let's get you off the bathroom floor." Dean added with a soft smile.

**000**

By the time they moved to their bed, Sam hadn't gotten any better. He was still a shell of who he used to be, broken and alone. Dean swallowed hard. How was he going to pull Sam out of this black hole that was slowly sucking his brother away?

There was a moment of awkward silence as Sam continued to stare at the pile in his hands. Dean wasn't sure what to do as he chewed on his lower lip. What the hell were you suppose to say to your brother who lost his girlfriend in a fire?

The soft rustling of papers could be heard as Sam scattered the bundle around, looking at them with a faint smile.

Dean was about to speak up, but Sam beat him to it.

"You know, she would always ask me about my family." He said; his voice barely above a whisper. "If I had a brother or a sister, where my family was, if I was close to you guys…"

Sam wiped a sleeve across his face, any trails of tears now non-existent on his face.

"I found out a lot about her." He continued. "She would always tell me about her family. She had a sister, and she talked about her a lot." Sam chuckled softly.

"What happened?" Dean asked gently.

Sam lifted his moss green eyes and looked up at him, a soft sad smile on his face.

"_I'm sure you have a hero, Sam. Everyone has their own hero." Jess asked, her eyes twinkling as she rested her chin on her palm. "It's a matter of who, and why."_

"_My hero?" Sam smiled at her. "He's the best person ever. The cockiest, but the nicest. The bitchiest, but always so gentle and cautious."_

"_Oh? And who's this Prince Charming?" Jess asked, leaning closer._

"_My brother, Dean."_

_Jess' eyebrows shot up. "You never talked about your brother. What's he like?"_

"_He's the best brother anyone could have. It sounds so… commonly used, but it comes from the heart. He raised me up and watched my back, he knew me so well it was like he could read me easier than the alphabet."_

"_Are you two really close?"_

"_Close? Of course we're close! If I went somewhere without telling him, he'd tear the whole town apart trying to find me!" Sam chucked at that._

"_Sam, all due respect, but if you two are so close, why don't you give him a call once in a while? It's been three years since you came to Stanford, and not once have you talked to your family."_

_Sam looked down, his hands automatically starting to fidget. "I know; it's been hard for me too. It's just… the night when I told my Dad and Dean that I was going to Stanford…they weren't exactly pleased."_

_Jess' eyebrows knitted. Weren't pleased? She thought. Who wouldn't be pleased if their son scored a full ride to Stanford?_

"_There's a family business that we've been trained to do, and all of us are expected to follow it through. Going to Stanford meant leaving this family business, meant turning my back on my family. They didn't see the world with the same two eyes I did. I was different, and I always have been."_

"_But…but can't you still run the family business at Stanford? Or after your stay at Stanford?"_

_Sam shook his head sadly. "This isn't a normal family business. It's difficult to explain. But these past years, I've missed them so much, especially Dean. Every day it hurts and it feels like walking through a swamp without my guardian, my light. I just wish…"_

_His voice trailed off as he glanced up at Jess awkwardly. He couldn't reveal everything. Not the family business. Not the truth. This would have to do._

_Sam brushed a strand of blonde hair away from Jess' face. "So who's your hero?" He decided to change the subject._

"_Mine's my sister."_

_Sam looked at her, a familiar feeling creeping in him. _

"_When we were younger, we used to argue a lot. She didn't treat me very well and I hated to see my sister like that. It wasn't until one day when her teacher was talking to the class about younger siblings, and she came to a realization that I wasn't something to be looked at with ignorance, but a blessing. Being an older brother or sister, meant that you were someone's role-model."_

_Jess paused to take a breath and Sam found himself listening intently at her story._

"_Every movement you make, everything you say, is important. Who you become, is who your younger sibling becomes. The stronger the bond, the closer the friendship, the easier it'll be when your older. It's like having a best friend around your side constantly. You tell your younger sibling everything, and they tell you everything."_

_Jess smiled at Sam as she continued._

"_So after that, she changed. She looked at me as a blessing from God, and she looked at herself as a role model; a hero. It was such a sudden change that it was then that I realized how lucky I was. My life was complete with her, and nothing would be able to replace that. She would put a smile on my face even if the sky was grey and cloudy."_

_Sam laughed lightly as he stretched and flexed his muscles. "I guess that's something else we both have to add to the list we have in common." _

Dean gaped at Sam in silence. That was how his brother really felt about him? Of course, he knew it deep inside of him, but to hear it spoken in words just blew him away. How could Sam possess such power…

"You're such a chick." He said as Sam laughed. "I can't believe you said that. I gotta give hand it to ya, it was very poetic and beautiful, but it was just missing that…touch."

"You're a jerk." Sam said, his lips curling at the corners.

"Right back at ya." _At everything you said about me. Without you, Sam, there would be nothing. _

There was a short silence, both thinking about what had been exchanged a few minutes earlier. Sam recognized Dean's hidden affection and love in those words and he deeply treasured it.

Dean broke the silence when a loving memory came into his thoughts. "Do you remember when we were little?" He asked.

Sam's eyebrows quirked as he looked at him. "Yeah, of course."

Dean's chuckled softly at the thought. Little Sammy with large innocent eyes following each movement he made. Little chubby hands clasping around his own.

Sam looked at Dean, wondering where he was going with this one. His crystal brown eyes stared deeply into Dean's, waiting.

All of a sudden, the 23-year-old Sam Winchester that Dean saw through his eyes transformed to an eight-year-old Sam.

"Do you remember when I was twelve and was taken to hospital because of a high fever?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah," He whispered. "I remember that day. I was only eight and you scared the shit outta me. I was so scared."

Dean smiled as he recalled the events of that day. Having a distressed eight-year-old Sammy was pretty funny…

_Sam arrived home that day as he dropped his small backpack down and kicked off his little shoes by the doorway. He ran into his bedroom, hoping to see Dean there either resting or asleep. He had been sick and __had__ taken a few days off school._

_Sam skidded around the corner, his eyes wide as he found no one occupying the bed. He ran to the bathroom, but still the same results. _

"_Dean!! Dean?!" He shouted, his little feet running into room after room._

"_Dad?!"_

_No one was home. Why wasn't anyone home? Sam thought. Dad never lets me stay at home by myself. What if something bad has happened? What if they left me behind?_

_Sam's breaths came out in quick gasps as he tried to think of something to do._

"_Dean?! Dad?!" He shouted even louder, hoping he would receive an answer. Tears sprang into his eyes as he bit his trembling lip. _

_He ran to the phone and picked it up._

_What was John's number?_

_Sam mentally shouted at himself. Why couldn't he remember his dad's number? He just recently started to memorize it. _

_Sam squeezed his eyes shut as he recited the first six numbers. _

_What were the last four? Think! Think!_

_A sudden sound at the door caught his attention as he whipped his head around. He slowly put the phone down, forgetting about it and threw himself behind a wall. _

_Remember, Sam. Always have protection. If it's a weapon or something that can block an intruder. His dad's voice echoed in his ears._

_Sam held his breath as the door swung open and John stepped through the door_

"_Dad!!" Sam screamed as he ran towards John. "Dad! I don't know what's happening. I came home and… and none of you were here and…"_

"_Sam? Sammy, it's alright. I'm sorry for leaving the house empty. C'mon, put your shoes on, we have to go."_

"_Go? Go where? Dad, Dean's not home!"_

"_Sam, I'll explain everything later. Hurry up, let's get you in the car."_

_**000**_

"_What?!" Sam cried. _

_John tensed as he focused on the road. That didn't go as planned._

"_What do you mean?!" His shrill voice echoed in the Impala and John made a quick check to see that all windows were wound up. _

"_Sam, calm down."_

"_But Dean's in hospital Dad!! What do you mean calm down?"_

_John stole a quick glance at his eight-year-old son. He sounded so old…so intelligent and smart for his age._

"_Yes, Dean's in hospital and-"_

"_Does that mean he'll die?" Sam lowered his voice to a whisper, afraid to hear the answer he feared._

"_Sammy, I told you, it's not at all serious. All we need to do is get his temperature down. That's all kiddo."_

_Sam looked at him, not breaking his gaze. He asked a question, and he demanded an answer._

_John sighed and chuckled softly after realizing what Sam was waiting for. "Dean's not gonna die, Sam. He's too strong for that. We're Winchesters, remember?"_

_**000**_

_Sam and John sat in the waiting room as Sam fidgeted with his clothing. _

"_Sammy, stop worrying. Just by looking at you you're making all the nurses worried."_

"_But Dean's in trouble." His small voice sounded, his gaze fixed on the floor. _

"_Sam, look at me. Sam?"_

_Sam raised his head to look at his father._

"_I promise, Dean is only in here because his temperature shot up too high. That's __**all**__. Do you understand? Nothing's gonna happen to him."_

_Sam nodded and looked at the doctor that was walking towards them._

_**000**_

_Dean was propped up on his bed as he looked at Sam and the doctor._

"_Are you sure?" Sam asked._

"_Yes, I'm positive. Everything's fine." Doctor Milson assured him._

"_But I mean, are you really, really sure?"_

_The doctor smiled uncomfortably and glanced at John._

"_Sammy, the doctor has said yes over a million times already. What else do you want?" Dean said exasperatedly, though there was no roughness behind it._

"_But I'm just making sure. Like Daddy double checks things, I'm just doing what he always does."_

_John and Doctor Milson shared a look; grins forming on their faces._

"_But Sammy…" Dean's voice trailed off as Sam spoke up._

"_So Dean's going to be fine? Like perfectly fine?" He asked the doctor._

"_Yes, I assure you. I'm positive."_

_Sam's face broke into a huge smile as he laughed happily. _

"_Dean!" He lunged himself at his brother. _

"_Whoa, easy there tiger."_

"_Dean! I was so worried about you! I came home and I didn't see you and… and I was trying to be like you and…"_

_Dean chuckled softly and ruffled his brother's short brown hair. _

Sam laughed along with Dean as they recalled their memories. He remembered the way he panicked that day when he found out no one was home.

"You know, Sam, not all memories have to be bad." He said softly.

Sam looked down and licked his lips carefully. "Yeah I know…it's just…" He started fidgeting on the hem of his shirt like he was young again.

"I know it's hard, but I know you can do it. Losing someone …it isn't easy to cope with. Imagine that you died, Sam, what would you want me to do?"

Sam didn't hesitate. This was something he knew how to answer blindly. "I'd want you to live your live as best as you can without having me to drag you down every day."

"And if I don't? If I stayed in the same place, stopped hunting, stopped _living _and just grieving, how would you feel?"

Instantly, Sam shook his head. "If you do that, I'll come back as an angry spirit and pound the message in your brain."

Dean smiled. "Exactly."

"But Dean…" _It's different between Jess and I!_

Dean seemed to sense his thoughts and asked, "Did she know you loved her?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Then it's exactly the same. Life's too short to always think about the bad things in life. Have fun, and only treasure the memories that are worth remembering."

"Yeah, but you still remembered me being an eight-year-old brat. That's not something worth remembering."

Dean laughed. "Sure it is, 'cos you were being a clingy bitch and that, is definitely something." _I'll always remember the good times we had together, Sammy. Every little one._

"Jerk." _I don't even know what a mess I'd be right now if not for you._

"I think I already made my point that you're a bitch, Sammy. Always will be, always have been." _And that, is the Sam Winchester I know._

**000**

Soon, Sam gave up fighting exhaustion and fell asleep. Dean walked around to his bed and gathered the loose bundle of papers that came from Jess' safe. He brought them over to the table and looked at the pile before him.

He knew not to intrude in his little brother's belongings, but a page written by a bright sparkly purple pen stood out amongst the rest.

_There's something odd about Sam today. I can't exactly say what, but I know it's something. We went on a camping trip today, just the two of us. I thought it'd be fun, out in the woods just by ourselves. I love nature, especially the smell of a pollution-free environment. _

_When we first arrived at our marked campsite, we called it a day and set up our tents. I watched him carefully when his back was towards me, and I noticed that he every now and again he tilted his head towards the woods and scan it. _

_For what?_

_That puzzled me. What was he looking for? What was he afraid of? _

_Later that night, when he thought I wasn't looking, I saw a glint of silver and quickly recognized it as the tip of a knife. Sam hid it under his pillow and turned around and smiled at me, pretending nothing was wrong. _

_What was he hiding from me?_

_I stayed awake and when I heard him snoring, I knew that he was asleep. I wanted to ask him so many questions, but I knew he would never tell me. _

_I know him too well, and one of his main priorities is to keep me safe. _

_Within the next few minutes, I joined Sam and fell asleep, and nothing could be heard except for soft breathing…_

_The next morning, Sam went outside to build a little fire. I took this moment and silently sneaked over to where he slept and gently lifted the pillow up. I expected to see a blade, a knife of some sort, but there was nothing._

_I felt like someone was watching me and turned around, but there was no one. It could have been Sam, but I wasn't sure anymore. I didn't know what to feel. _

_Throughout the day, Sam had acted perfectly normal. Like the Sam Winchester I always knew. But I could still tell that behind his mask, something was off. _

_I secretly wished that he could be more open, share with me the secrets that he was burdened with. _

_The next day, I crawled out of the tent to find Sam staring off into the woods, scanning the trees slowly. I followed his gaze but didn't see anything. Nothing at all. Only the birds that flew around the branches every morning._

_That didn't seem out of place. Nothing did. Or maybe I wasn't as good an observer as he was. I looked at Sam and saw that he had his hand stuffed in his pocket, the veins on his wrist standing out. Without a doubt, I knew what was in his pocket._

_The knife._

_What was so dangerous about this place? I decided to confront Sam and walked up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He seemed to tense, or was he startled by my presence? I wasn't sure of anything anymore as I asked him what was wrong. He looked into my eyes and I couldn't seem to place what he was feeling at that moment. _

_I placed my hand on his pocket where the knife supposedly was. I felt the hilt of it, the tip of the sharp metal through the denim jeans. _

_Instantly, Sam withdrew, obviously not wanting me to find out what was hidden. I asked him what was disturbing him, that I was willing to help, but he denied it. _

_The rest of the camping trip seemed normal, I never saw the knife again and the space underneath Sam's pillow remained empty. _

_I guess I was just being a bit over dramatic, or a bit too worried about him because the days after that, he was the Sam I knew. Maybe that camping trip was just wrong timing, because everything seems to be alright now. _

_I've never asked him about it, and he never told me about it. I didn't think there was anything to worry about. Maybe I was just too tired and imagined it. Maybe he was just putting some money under his pillow because he was too exhausted, and the glint that came off it was what I saw._

Dean smiled dryly as he read how Jess thought she was going a bit nuts. Though in hindsight, Dean didn't need to ask Sam what was wrong. He didn't need to see that Sam knew Jess had snuck up on him that day and checked his pillow and he surely didn't need to ask Sam why he had concealed his knife in his boot.

Camping trips had always been hard for all three of them- especially Sam. He still remembered the day when the hunt had gone wrong, their dad so angry it frightened Dean to a level where he would never forget that day…

_John's Impala slowed to a halt as 9-year-old Sam and 13-year-old Dean rushed out, gathering their weapons from the trunk of the car. John stepped out while loading his gun and scanned the woods. _

"_C'mon boys. We need to hunt this Wendigo down fast. You know the story."_

"_Yes sir." They replied simultaneously. Sam was really eager to finish this hunt because as John informed them, two hikers were out here- apparently lost- with a Wendigo roaming around._

"_Follow me, and remember, hunt with all your senses. Don't let your hearing betray your sight. Don't let your sense of smell betray your hearing." John said in a low voice._

_Dean followed with his gun pointed to the ground, his feet trained to make no noise. The hunt is on, he thought excitedly. _

_Sam followed John beside Dean, scanning his surroundings. He looked at what Dean was doing, since he had more years of experience and tried to follow. He looked down at his own gun in his firm grip, and clicked the safety button off._

_Dean glanced at him, without needing to say anything, Sam understood. It was all in his eyes, telling Sam to be quiet, not to give off their presence._

_Dean suddenly thought he heard the whisper of voices as they drew deeper and deeper into the woods. He stopped abruptly and held a hand out, as John strained his ears to hear what Dean had heard._

_It was getting closer and closer, and all of a sudden John spun around on his heels._

_Two frightened people drew back in shock at the sudden movement, and John realized that they were the lost hikers. Quickly, he pretended to search for something in his back pocket as he put the gun behind his waistband. Without hesitation, Dean did the same, concealing his gun and straightening up, straightening his tee over the gun. _

_Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the two hikers back away. "Wait, what-what are you doing with that gun?" The girl exclaimed._

_Shit._

"_Deer hunting." Dean interrupted. "Daddy takes us deer hunting because it's Sammy's birthday today. Just a special way to celebrate." He said innocently, patting Sam on the head._

_John looked at his son and silently thanked him for that. He had taught him well. The hikers seem to buy that and their shoulders visibly relaxed. _

_John sighed in relief and looked down at his watch._

_It was nearly getting dark, so he decided to go back to the Impala with the two hikers and direct them back to town._

_**000**_

"_Wow, I can't thank you enough John, you and your boys" Rosary humbly acknowledged as John told her the directions to town. _

"_If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't have ever seen daylight again." Nathan continued as he thanked John with a handshake. _

"_Oh it's no problem. We were just passing by, decided to go on a hunting trip and saw you two." John said._

_If Nathan and Rosary weren't so blindsided by their rescue, they would be curious, suspicious as to why a father of two were "passing by" but yet gotten so deep into the woods and not lost themselves._

"_Do you mind if we take a photo? Just a token of appreciation, I guess." Rosary asked, holding a camera while smiling sheepishly. _

_The Winchesters never did photos, but when Sam jumped up and down John couldn't resist. He knew how much Sammy had wanted to save these people._

_The photo came out of the slot, revealing John sitting on the Impala with Sam on his lap and Dean sitting beside him. _

_Rosary looked at it, smiling, and handed it to Sam kissing him on the forehead._

_A while later, the two hikers thanked the Winchesters and walked away, eager to tell everyone that they were safe. _

_**000**_

_It was growing dark and John had built a tent near the Impala. "Tomorrow we get up at 7:30am. The sooner we hunt this bitch down, the better."_

_Sam nodded, responding with a soft 'Yes Sir' as he lay down and thought about tomorrow. Why do we still have to hunt the Wendigo? The hikers were rescued, so why can't we just put a big fence around the woods like they do in the zoos?_

_Questions and thoughts swirled around his head, some too hard to work his way around and others he knew John would shout at him if he let them out of his mouth._

_Soon, he succumbed to sleep and mentally prepared for the big day ahead of them tomorrow._

_John had finished drawing the protective symbols around the Impala and the tent when he saw Sam and Dean sound asleep and he smiled to himself._

_**000**_

_Dean glanced behind him, looking at Sam as they stealthily went deeper into the woods. He didn't have to ask to know what was up with his brother. After rescuing the hikers, Sam's eagerness to finish this hunt had left along with the hikers. _

_Aware of Dean's look, Sam tore his gaze off the forest floor and looked at him._

_C'mon Sam we have a job to finish. Get your gear together._

_Dean's eyes seem to say. Sam gave a small nod of understanding as the hunt resumed. _

_A few hours later, the grey afternoon sky was threatening to rain above them, but John wanted to finish this Wendigo once and for all. _

_Sam's legs were aching as they stepped in front of the other, but he was determined not to fail his brother or father, so he kept his mouth shut._

_He paused for a while, bending his knees and stretching his muscles. A few seconds later, he ran to keep up with them, but it was then that he heard something. _

_A branch snapped as he twisted his head to the direction he heard it in. Leaves on the trees rustled as they brushed against each other, but that seemed to come from the other direction._

_Were there two Wendigos? _

_Sam was on high alert, his eyes shifted between the two areas where he heard the noises._

"_Dad, Dean! They're here!" Sam whispered, never dropping his gaze. _

_The woods were silent, and Sam thought if he had maybe really imagined the sounds after all. He turned around, expecting to hear John barking at him but all he saw was the green of the trees blending together. _

"_Dad?! Dean?!" He raised his voice, careful not to give his presence away._

_He spun around on his heel, all that was going through his mind was how much trouble he'd be in._

_**000**_

_When Dean could no longer hear his brother's footsteps, he growled, "Sam, I'm not saying it again-." That was until he stopped in mid sentence and turned around, finding nothing. _

"_Dad! Dad! Sammy's missing!" Dean yelled, quietly enough for himself to be heard and the panic to be evident in his voice._

"_What? How did that happen?"_

"_I-I don't know. He was behind me and…"_

"_Don't worry Dean, we'll find him."_

"_I'm sorry Dad, I'm sorry, I didn't know…"_

"_It's not your fault. C'mon, let's find him and ask him what happened. I'm sure he didn't just run off because he felt like it." _

_**000**_

_Shit._

_Shit._

_And shit._

_Sam was lost in the woods by himself and his family was no where to be seen. Then, a familiar voice echoed and bounced off the trees._

"_Sammy!?"_

_Dean's voice. It was faint, but audible. Sam began running towards the sound. Thank God they found me, thank God… He thought. _

"_Sammy?! Where are you?!" _

"_I'm here! Dean, I'm here!" He shouted, but the voice didn't seem to hear him._

"_Sammy?!" He called out again. _

_Suddenly, the wind picked causing Sam's hair to blow in his face. He no longer could hear the voices anymore, since the wind probably swept them away. _

"_Dean!!! Dad!!!" He shouted on top of his lungs, any fear of the Wendigo long gone._

_It all happened so quickly, one moment he was scanning the woods for any familiar faces, the next he was soaring through the air. Sam yelled out in shock as his feet __were__ swept off the ground._

_Sam collided with a tree as he crumpled to the ground, landing on his leg sending bolts of pain up along his leg. His head was swimming, his vision blurry as his uncoordinated eyes tried to track his attacker. just a suggestion._

_The violent wind died down, and the woods were still and silent again._

_His last moments before unconsciousness was that he thought he saw a brief glimpse of a Wendigo, but all turned black before his mind registered if it was real or not. _

_**000**_

_The wind suddenly picked up as Sam's scream filled the air. Dean's wide eyes reflected John's fear for the youngest member of their family._

"_Dad, we gotta find him!!" Dean's frantic voice came out shakily. _

_They picked up speed towards the direction of Sam when all of a sudden the wind died down._

"_It's got to the Wendigo." John breathed. "Shit, it's got Sam."_

_Dean's worst fears were confirmed. If only he had kept a better eye out for his brother…if only he had let Sam go in __**front **__of him rather than behind…_

_**000**_

_Sam felt the icy coldness press up against his cheeks and chest from underneath him. The cold air that seemed to rise filling his lungs with every breath he took, and he struggled to remember what had happened and how he had landed himself in such a situation._

_His side hurt as he remembered his collision with the tree trunk. He remembered Dean calling him, but why would Dean call him when he knew that the Wendigo was out there somewhere? That wasn't like Dean. _

_Sam hoisted himself up, his palms scraping the cold cement floor beneath him and as he moved to stand up, the pain hit him so fast he cried out, the strength in his arms vanished as he plunged to the ground. _

_He lay still, panting as he twisted his head around and looked at his right leg. He swallowed at the sight, pushing away the mental note to himself that he was in desperate need of water and tried to remain still._

_Blood pooled around his leg, his jeans soaked in crimson red and Sam grimaced at the sight. He decided to sit up, working with his upper body and trying not to move his leg at all. Finally, he was sitting up, the position giving him a full view of his right leg. _

_Sam leant in and pulled the denim up, and his eyes widened in shock. His ankle was swollen and bruised, and you didn't have to squint to see where it had gone wrong. A bit above the break, a large gash ran across horizontally, a trickle of blood still making trails down his leg and dripping onto the cold floor._

_**000**_

"_Dean." John's harsh voice pulled Dean away from his pondering thoughts. "Dean, over here."_

_Recognizing his tone of voice, Dean immediately strode over to his father, looking at where he was pointing to._

_Sam's gun! This was Sam's gun he had been carrying with him! _

_Instantly, Dean spoke the first thing that crossed his mind._

"_Why would Sam drop his weapon and just leave it? Does he really hate this hunt that much?" The events of the past two days had caught up with Dean, and if he had a second thought he wouldn't have spoken these words._

_But John hadn't been paying attention to Dean. He was already putting the pieces of information together as he looked up and saw a blood smear on a trunk of a tree. _

"_Dean, I think I might know where Sammy is." John said as he pointed to the blood. Dean gasped as realization hit him._

"_The Wendigo definitely has Sam. This makes it easier. Let's hope we're not too late." John whispered, picking up his pace with Dean closely behind him._

_**000**_

_Sam had tried to find a way out, looking for an entrance but it was too dark, and his injured leg wouldn't let him move. _

_He shivered as the cold from the cement floor and the empty underground space was surely getting to him as he licked his lips. How long had he been under here? How long had he last savored the sweet taste of water trickling down his lips?_

_Even the thought made him cringe, as he tried to curl himself into a ball to shield himself from the cold. He bit back a cry as he felt the bones in his broken ankle grind together, scraping across each other and he couldn't hold the tears that broke free from his eyes. _

_A soft plea for his family graced over his lips as he sunk into the darkness, the cold and dehydration doing its job…_

_**000**_

_John handed his gun to Dean as he unlocked the hatch to the door that lead underground. He looked at his son in the eye and nodded once, ready to face the creature that was waiting for them. _

_Dean gave John his gun and they both headed down, their eyes trained to adjust the sudden lighting. _

_A sudden movement to their right, and John had fired his flaregun into the darkness. The place lit up, and in a brief second Dean forgot the Wendigo and scanned the surroundings for Sam. _

"_Dean, go! Find Sam!" Was all John managed to say as he shot at the Wendigo again. Once again, the place lit up as Dean saw a figure lying on the floor, far far away. _

_His heart fluttered, he spun around to face John and luckily, John understood. For a split moment, their eyes locked and they understood each other, and Dean wasted no time._

_He sprinted off, gun in hand just in case something went wrong between John and the Wendigo. Again, the room lighted up and Dean saw Sam, in the exact same positon as he was the last time he saw him._

_Why hadn't he moved? Responded to the shots of the guns? Called their names out?_

_No, he couldn't be- No. Dean would never let that happen._

_Despite the often fires coming from John, Dean could hear his footsteps pounding in his ears. He urged himself to go faster, to leap into the space in front of him and have Sam in his arms, no blood, no pain, safe and alive. _

_Finally, he reached his destination, and the underground cave lit up again and a distant howl and crackle could be heard. Dean couldn't care any less that the Wendigo had been killed, as he looked at his brother…pale and cold._

_So cold. _

_Dean began whispering, coaxing his brother to wake up, but Sam remained still and quiet. Dean checked his pulse, his breathing, but everything seemed alright. _

_When Sam didn't respond, Dean moved and checked his leg. He bit his lip, and he distantly heard the sound of footsteps pounding against the cement floor. _

_Soon, John was towering over them both, and he took Sam in his arms planting a kiss on his forehead. _

"_You did good, Dean. Let's hurry and get back so we can treat Sam. We're lucky he's unconscious or else…" He chuckled at his imagination but his humor fell when he realized how much trouble they were in. _

_Dean followed closely behind, what he always does, as he watched his father carry Sam into the clearing. Secretly, he wished that he was Sam's savior. Wasn't that his job? _

_All through his years, Dean never discussed it to anyone. He didn't need to, as they grew up, the friendship, brotherly bond and even the unspoken bond that allowed them to know what each other was thinking about without even saying it, grew stronger and stronger. _

Dean found himself boring holes into the table, Jess' letter still in his hands but forgotten. Suddenly, he dropped it, letting it flutter down joining the rest of the pile as he walked over to his duffle, remembering to keep his footsteps quiet as he looked at Sam.

Quiet, peaceful and devoid of any pain. So innocent and young, but yet experienced so many… Dean's eyes traveled to Jess' pile of memories and decided to leave that thought hanging. There was no right word for it, and it certainly wasn't a tragedy because not _everything _in their life had been a tragedy. Dean didn't see it that way, at least. He saw himself as lucky, having a brother to look out for, and someone to look out for him.

Dean rummaged through his clothes, until he came to the very bottom and found John's journal. He opened it, flipping it to the back where he kept all the photos. Most were crumpled, the whiteness highlighting its age.

Dean scanned through all of them until he found the one he was looking for. He took it, closing the journal, he walked back to the table and studied it.

It was the picture that was taken by the two hikers. A snapshot of their younger years, a moment frozen in time reflected back at him. He studied the photo and let his shoulders slump.

He studied all three faces, analyzing how Sam didn't appear ready for the photo, and how Dean and John seemed like best pals, father and son. The Sun was shining directly above them, making each of them squint.

Dean was so intrigued that he didn't hear or _sense _Sam's footsteps padding across the soft carpet as he made his way towards him.

"Hey." He offered.

Dean jumped, startled and his eyes averted to Sam.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

"Not startle, just surprise." Dean replied, smirking.

Sam let out a puff of a laughter, as he took a seat besides Dean. "That's a nice photo. We don't have many, and it's nice to remember our past." As soon as the words slipped out, he regretted them as the scattered pages filled with Jessica's handwriting became known to him on the table. "Well, sometimes it's nice. The other times…you just want to forget." He ended the last word on a whisper and dropped his gaze.

"Do you remember what happened?" Dean shook the photo slightly, telling Sam what he was referring to.

"Yeah, of course."

Dean chuckled. "Me too. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Both, I suppose."

"You know, I've never told you this, in fact I've never told anyone but…" He looked at Sam, willing not to give himself away.

An old trick from the past will work.

"What?" Sam studied Dean.

"Actually, never mind. I haven't told anyone, might as well keep it to myself."

"Dean. What is it?"

Perfect. Dean thought.

"Well, honestly, when I saw Dad walk away with you in his arms… I was …jealous. Sorta.."

It was then that the humor was zapped from the atmosphere, and Sam found himself staring at the hazel eyes. He detected no joke, no sarcasm, no lie.

"But when I was the first to find out, I felt proud. I felt like I was your savior, and for a split second I was…until Dad…you know. It's stupid, really."

"That's not stupid, Dean. It's the same with me sometimes. But Dean, you should know, ever since I was days old and until now, you're my savior. I wouldn't even have reached three-years-old had you not taken me out. I wouldn't be talking to you right now if you hadn't done exactly the same thing 22 years ago."

Dean smiled. His plan had worked. Not only had he gotten his baby brother's humor back, he had done something much bigger.

His smile grew bigger.

"See, Sammy. Not all memories have to be bad. And I think I just proved that point. Older brothers are always right."

Sam's eyes widened. "What? So you're saying, what you just said to me was all a setup?"

"Hmmm…maybe." Dean chuckled as he looked at Sam. "But it's true. Even if your memory has a feeling of loss, or sadness, maybe failure, it doesn't have to be bad." Dean flipped his hand gesturing the bundle of paper of the table.

"Just because…" Dean forced himself to go on. "Just because Jessica isn't there in the picture anymore, doesn't mean all that doesn't mean anything except loss."

Sam nodded, but Dean could see the message was not clearly getting through. This was harder than he thought.

"Look at this photo, Sam." Dean referred back to the one the two hikers took. "What are the most important things you remember?"

"When we saved the two hikers. When I thought I was brave surviving by myself with a broken ankle and then when you and Dad came to save me." He answered with hesitation.

Dean nodded. "And not all that is bad. Understand me? There's always something good in every memory, and not every memory has to be buried deep down, pretending it never existed because what's the point? Think of the good things, remember it, and treasure it."

When he finally saw Sam raise his eyes to look at him, he gave a small though strong nod of confirmation and his heart fluttered with pride as he saw a flicker of fire dance in Sam's orbs.

"I guess I just made you the biggest chick flick geek in the world." Sam smiled.

"Chick flick moments?" Dean laughed. "Not me, kiddo. That title's reserved for you."

Sam laughed and shook his head amusingly. Dean walked over to his duffle and put the photo back where he found it: at the back of John's journal.

Sam's gaze wandered around until something caught his eye. A photo was peeking out from under the pile of paper on the table. He held the corner and pulled it out, holding it upright and inspecting it.

It was a lovely photo of Sam and Jess, their faces filled the photo and you couldn't see anything else. Only their happiness and love for each other.

Jessica was wearing a beautiful dress for a formal occasion, thin straps holding it up. Her hair was half in a bun and half out. Her lips were enriched with bold red lipstick and her eyes were beautiful, just enough make up to make her look like a celebrity. Sparkly eye shadow peeked out from behind her thickened, black and curly eyelashes.

Sam had his arm around her shoulder, holding a red rose and he was wearing an expensive suit.

It was a school dance that night, and they enjoyed themselves so much they swore they would never forget the night.

Dean turned around after putting everything back in his duffel and froze at the spot. He saw Sam looking intently at a photograph, and he wasn't sure what he was going to do. How would they live on their lives if everything that reminded Sam of Jessica made him sad, angry or moody?

Suddenly, Sam smiled, his dimples showing. It wasn't a pretend smile because he somehow realized Dean was staring at him, his feet rooted to the ground, but it was a natural smile.

Dean found himself releasing a breath he had been holding and walked towards Sam, a hand on his shoulder. He glanced at the photo and saw what a gorgeous woman Jessica had been and looked at his brother and how expensively dressed he was. The red rose also didn't go unnoticed.

It was like their happiness was radiating off the photo.

This wasn't something someone would usually laugh about, yet Sam had pulled through. That giant chick flick moment was definitely worth it, and he too smiled.

"Looking quite expensive there Sammy." He said, making the moment light.

Sam laughed, and Dean had to admit, it was better than any classic rock he had in his Impala.

He lightly patted Sam on his shoulder and headed towards the fridge to get a few beers.

"You did good Sammy. I'm proud of ya bitch."

Sam snorted, quietly shuffling through more of Jessica's memories, now looking at them in a totally different aspect.

"Thanks, jerk."

**Fin.**

**Thanks for reading guys. As always, please review and let me know how I did. I'm starting a new fic pretty soon, so keep an eye out for that.**


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